Here Comes The Reign
by SaintVille
Summary: After Laurinaitis' defeat at the hands of John Cena, the vacant spot for Raw's General Manager is filled by Bryony Lesnar. She's got her mind set on flipping Raw completely upside down, and in the process she begins a war between the old champions and the new ones. Can she keep the peace, and all her secrets? Or will Cody Rhodes, CM Punk, and Brock Lesnar uncover them all?
1. Chapter 1

The entire Boston crowd was on fire tonight.

John Cena was on his way down to the ring. Fresh off the defeat of John Laurinaitis and effectively ending his agenda as the Raw General Manager; Cena was flying high and could do no wrong.

"How're we doing, Boston?!" He managed to shout into the mic above the deafening crowd. This only drove them crazier. Cena couldn't help but smile. For once, he couldn't hear the 'Cena sucks' chants over the 'Let's Go, Cena' ones.

"Did you see me put that old geezer through a table last night? And did you love it as much as I did?"

The crowd fervently chanted 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' the newest and most popular moniker of the World Heavyweight Champion, Daniel Bryan.

Looking back, Cena would admit he'd felt a little invincible, a little too confident.

"Now, I have a question to the sloppy suits on the Board of Directors. Who's next?"

The crowd died instantly, exchanging murmurs and half-hearted chants of who they'd heard and wanted to become the new Raw General Manager. Truth be told, not even the locker room knew more than the crowd did. They were all probably watching Cena stand stupidly in the middle of the ring from monitors backstage, waiting to hear from someone who was taking the GM spot. Everyone had understood that John Cena's feud with Laurinaitis had gone further than planned. And that the Board of Directors weren't happy about the choices Laurinaitis had made leading up to his demise as GM. But they didn't like John Cena either. And his calling them out was something they weren't bound to tolerate.

When Brock Lesnar's face appeared on the titantron, Cena knew his punishment was greater than he bargained for…

* * *

Brock Lesnar's theme was meant to intimidate, to put fear into the hearts of the men he sought to crush and leave in his wake. And though he'd made his appearances lately, Cena knew for a fact the man was not here tonight. So he laughed, let the mic filter it in and made the threat of Brock Lesnar seem like the threat of Doink the Clown.

"Well, folks, it looks like our technical crew must've hit the 'F5' button by mistake and-" Cena's little joke was cut-off by the music ending and a different scene plastered on the titantron. It was a dark room and she was sitting in a big chair, her legs crossed and her face mildly obscured by the shadows. She leaned forward, letting light pour in on her. Something about her was oddly familiar and yet he couldn't place it. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and the pair of readers on the bridge of her nose made her steely eyes, focused solely on Cena, seem colder than ice. It made Cena's hair stand on end, the way she seemed to stare into his very soul with those big grey eyes.

"Well, well, well, John Cena has angered the beast yet again, it seems."

Eyes were drawn to the stage, where an always smug Paul Heyman stood. What the hell was unfolding here? The woman above smiled a little, leaning back in her chair.

The crowd erupted in chants of 'We Want Lesnar!'

Heyman looked above him at the screen.

"Simple, stupid people, you have Lesnar," he said curtly, "May I be the first to proudly welcome Ms. Bryony Lesnar as Raw's new General Manager!"

John Cena was dumbstruck. In fact, the whole arena was dumbstruck. This woman was the new John Laurinaitis, and a Lesnar? Cena wasn't quite buying it, especially coming from the lips of a man like Heyman.

"Wait, wait, just a minute. This is all some big locker room prank, right? You're just some prettied-up model and you, Heyman; you'll do anything for a few bucks. Brock Lesnar doesn't have a wife or a sister, and Brock Lesnar is way too young to be your-"

"-that's enough, Mr. Cena. Your disrespect will be taken into consideration," she spoke finally, in a voice so light and lilting yet commanding Cena wasn't sure whether to take her seriously or point her to the nearest cheerleading camp.

'_It's the Big Show, it's the big, bad show tonight!' _

The giant appeared behind Heyman, shaking his hand as he stepped out; flanked by Tensai and his servant, Sakamoto.

"Enjoy your handicap match," Heyman said, letting the screen flicker to black before he walked off; leaving Cena in the middle of the ring with the Big Show on one set of steel steps and Tensai perched on the other. Cena found himself confused and angry as he slid off his shirt and threw it into the crowd, preparing for a fight he already knew the outcome to.


	2. Chapter 2

The schedule for the night was a list of blank opponents to every title-holder on the roster. Cody Rhodes had only just entered the locker room when he was told.

"You've got to be kidding me," he answered, setting his things down next to Ted DiBiase. He misjudged the bench and dropped everything of his and Ted's on the floor. Ted shook his head, muttering something as he bent over to pick things up.

"No. Everyone with a title is defending tonight, per our new General Manager's request. She's a fireball, that one. John Cena gave her a little lip and he got mauled by Tensai and The Big Show," Ted replied, sitting down and lacing his boots. He and Tyson Kidd were the current tag team champions, so he had reason to worry. Cody was unconcerned. Since he'd lost his intercontinental title last month, he had shown up late to every show; usually a little drunk. It was a low point in his career, he knew this. But at the moment, he didn't care.

"Drunk again, loser?" CM Punk said as he passed them by, pushing Cody by the shoulder.

"Fuck you," Cody replied, standing up and shoving Punk. Punk laughed.

"That all you got, with all that liquid courage in you? That everything you're worth? Sit down; I'll get you a nice bottle of jack to drink while you watch my match tonight from the sidelines," Punk said. Cody moved to cross over the bench and let Punk have it, but Ted grabbed his arm.

"It's not worth it, Cody. You don't want to bring that kind of attention to yourself," Ted said, pulling Cody back towards the lockers. Punk laughed, muttering something profane and walking back to his locker.

"Is Cody here yet?" A frightened stage-hand was at the door, looking around cautiously.

"Too late," Ted muttered.

"I'm here," Cody answered, raising his hand up. His stomach was feeling uneven, and when he moved it gave a sickening lurch.

"Miss Lesnar would like to speak with you, immediately," the stage-hand said, ducking out the door as soon as he delivered the message.

"You're in for it," said CM Punk, as he passed by Cody.

"Shut up," Cody snapped, pulling up the hood of his jacket and stomping out the door.

* * *

Where was her stupid office anyway? Cody didn't know this damn place from any other he'd been to. His bitter face reflected on anyone he asked, none of them even willing to talk about her let alone direct him to her office. He finally crossed paths with a banged-up looking John Cena; who was himself looking for something in every door he passed.

"Cena," Cody stopped him by his shoulder. Cena spun on him. He was bleeding mildly from his nose and was holding his left arm close to his chest.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"I'm looking for the new general manager's office," Cody replied, losing his balance for a moment and recovering subtly. He had definitely had one too many at the hotel bar.

"It's down the hall this way. The medic gave me some vague directions after I shoved him into a crate when he tried to treat me. You'll have your moment when I'm done, kid," Cena was unabashedly callous, continuing on his path without another word to Cody. He followed behind Cena, a little slower and just out of arm's length in case Cena wanted to preface any of his frustration on someone. When they reached the door, it said simply: Lesnar, B. and was guarded by two large men and Paul Heyman.

"John, you look a little… beaten down. Perhaps you should see a medic," Heyman said with a devious smile as the two approached him.

"You'll need a medic when I'm through with you if you don't let me in there, Heyman," John said through grit teeth, wiping the blood that had dribbled from his nose to his lip while he spoke.

"Somehow, I doubt that. You were not asked to this room. Mr. Rhodes was. Now, if you'll excuse us, John, we have business to tend to," Heyman reached out and grasped Cody by the arm, his stomach giving another sickening lurch as he squeezed past the broad shoulders of two larger than life men and through the slight opening of her office door. John was left outside, shouting obscenities until he was driven away by security.

* * *

She was sitting in her chair; couches surrounded her desk like a round table to the throne. She was filing through something in a drawer, paying no mind to either of them as they came in. Heyman cleared his throat, as though it would change her opinion of their importance.

"Cody Rhodes is finally here to see you," Heyman said quietly. Was he too afraid of this woman? I glanced up, not at them but at the picture framed on my desk. And then she went back to rifling. She didn't seem frightening just yet, but she did know how to make a room feel uncomfortable. When she found what she was looking for, she set it on the table and stood, locking a pair of chilly grey eyes on Cody that made his spine tingle uncomfortably. Now he understood why everyone was afraid of her. A look alone with those dark eyes could kill a weak man in his stride.

"Get out, Heyman," she said, not sparing Cody a moment of her steely gaze. Heyman swept out of the room quickly, and no doubt gratefully.

"Mr. Runnels. How wonderful of you to finally join us here at the venue. You missed my introduction, so I will repeat myself just this once. My name is Bryony Lesnar, and I am Raw's new General Manger. I have something here. A hotel bill, run up in every city we've been to in the last month by over $500 by one Cody Rhodes," she fished a piece of paper out from what she'd drug out of her desk, in the process knocking her photo frame onto the floor before Cody. He was too locked into her stare to move. He felt like a child in the principal's office, only detention here could ruin his career. He'd not given second thought to it when he'd been in those hotel bars, because Laurinaitis hadn't given a damn about him or anyone on the roster who wasn't John Cena or CM Punk. But now, with her as the new GM; he figured he was done for.

"This bill is for alcohol, enough to give the entire roster a good buzz," she waved the paper in her hands, crumpling it and tossing it at him. It hit him in the chest, and fell to the floor beside the photo frame. He felt the lurching liquids in his stomach begin to churn over and over. This was coming to a head and he deeply regretted footing those bills to John Laurinaitis about now.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Runnels?" she said, moving around her desk to stand before him. He wanted to speak, to tell her he was sorry because those cold, malevolent grey eyes made him feel very sorry. To tell her even that if she valued her cute little pencil skirt and blouse that she needed to step aside. But the feeling building in his throat made no space for words to squeeze past, and as he choked back the bile long enough to push past her and hit the trash-can beside her desk. He retched the contents of his stomach more quickly than he'd drank all of it. She didn't seem fazed, just spun quickly along with him and knelt down on one knee to grab the hood of his jacket before it became a casualty of his ways. Her other hand rubbed his back gently, surprisingly; her acrylic nails rubbing soothing patterns across his back that made the stinging tears and running nose a little less embarrassing.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" she said quietly, her voice touched with sympathy. He nodded, feeling another round coming up again. He coughed, spitting the remnants of his vomit into the can and closing his eyes. His head was spinning, not that it was an unfamiliar feeling but this time he had an audience. Her words echoed a few times in his head. He was an idiot. He did know it. And her light fingers rubbing circles on his back may as well have been spelling it out for the world to see.

"I'm sorry," he managed with a raspy voice. She laughed a little.

"Your pay has been appropriated to cover the cost of those bills. And I can always get a new picture frame," she replied. Cody recalled the crunching under his feet as he dove for the trash can. He'd broken her picture frame.

"I'll get you a new one, what size is the photo?" he sat back and picked up the crushed frame. Between the pieces of glass was a picture of a young woman and man in a Prom photo. The banner above them said, A Night to Remember. They were both smiling; the girl was a beautiful little blonde with similar grey eyes as Bryony, though this girl's was filled with happiness and love for the man they reflected upon. The man was easily a younger and much smaller Brock Lesnar. She calmly took the photo from him, and when his hand pulled away he felt the warmth of blood dripping from his fingertips. He'd cut himself on the glass. Of course he had, broken glass was sharp and he was not disproving her idiot theory this evening.

"Who were they?" he asked, trying to hide his injury. She shook her head at him, pulling his hand into her view.

"You're playing with broken glass and other broken things, Mr. Runnels. I suggest you do not pry and please hold still," she rose up quickly and went back to her desk, grabbing a small white box and opening it. She grabbed a small bottle and a roll of gauze and knelt down beside him, pouring rubbing alcohol directly into the cut on his palm and wrapping it quickly.

"You're a mess, Mr. Runnels," she said, tying off the wrap. Why was she babying him? Was she going to kiss his boo-boo and send him to nap time too? Even being nice she made him feel pathetic, and he should feel pathetic. What the hell was he doing sitting on the floor of his new bosses office shitty and drunk, being wrapped up by her because not only did he ruin her trash-can but her picture too? He was getting off to great start with this woman. He expected she was absolutely going to fire him now.

"And your father need not know about this if you clean up and beat Randy Orton tonight," she added, standing again and pulling him up with her. For a girl as small as she seemed she was quite strong. She began to unzip his jacket, yanking it off around his arms.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"You need to sleep this off. And also, I didn't manage to completely save this jacket so I need to get it washed. Take a seat. My couches are great for napping," she led him to one of her large couches, and when he sat down he felt his body slump with tiredness. She was right, he wanted to shut his eyes and take a little nap. He lay down and watched her through sleepy eyes as she walked back and forth out of his view, draping a blanket over him and pulling his head up to throw a pillow under it. He could hear a knock at her door as he drifted off, and Heyman's voice.

"What is he doing?"

"Sleeping. Now please, Heyman. We have a lot to cover tonight. I'm changing this place around for better or worse and…"


	3. Chapter 3

When Cody awoke, he was in an empty office with his gear beside him. There was a beeping noise coming from her desk, and he got up slowly to retrieve it. It was a cell phone, and the note on the alarm said: 'Time for the Show, Mr. Runnels'. He drew in a deep breath, he had to beat Randy Orton tonight or his father would know about his recent excursions. Dusty Rhodes would most definitely kill him. Likely it would be with his bare hands. He slowly moved over to his bag, on which lay his jacket; freshly cleaned and folded. This woman was so kind to him, why was everyone so damn afraid of her?

He changed into his gear quickly, and just as he pulled on his trunks she stepped through the door.

"Perfect timing," he said, sitting down to pull on his boots.

"I have that on occasion. Are you fit to compete?" she asked, walking across the room and retrieving her phone.

"Yeah, I'm alright. But you said I'm facing Randy Orton. Isn't he the current intercontinental champion?"

"Yes, he is. And if you beat him, you will be again. I've spent this entire evening flipping the Raw Supershow on its ass, and this is the climax of that change. I have faith in you. Please do not disappoint me, Mr. Runnels," she added the last part quietly, her grey eyes seemed to shift away from him for a moment.

"Where's your picture?" he asked, lacing his boot and grabbing his vest.

"I put it away. It seems to cause more harm than good," she replied quietly, adjusting her glasses for a moment and turning back into her brick-wall self.

"I will be accompanying you to the ring, as Mr. Orton is unaware of his competitor this evening. I'm sure it will not make him happy; which will make me quite happy. Let's go, Mr. Runnels," she opened the door of her office, Cody following her quickly. In heels, she was the fastest walking woman he'd ever seen. He shrugged on his vest and zipped it up, pulling the hood over his head. Cameras were panning in on them, and Josh Mathews was fast approaching with a clearly nervous demeanor.

"Miss Lesnar, nearly every champion has failed to maintain their title tonight, do you expect the same outcome from this match?" she continued walking, forcing Josh and the cameras to keep up with them by walking quickly backwards.

"I do believe that Mr. Rhodes will defeat Mr. Orton this evening, Mr. Mathews. Don't you?" she replied. Cody smirked confidently. It was time to get into character, and having a woman everyone feared in his corner made it easy to feel cocky.

"Miss Lesnar, just one more question. Where is Brock?"

Bryony stopped dead in her tracks, her steely eyes drilling holes in Josh Mathews. This seemed to be a button with her that she wasn't fond of having pushed. And Josh was made to know it the minute the words slipped from his mouth. He cautiously, stupidly, repeated himself.

"Miss Lesnar, where is Brock?"

She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them again she smirked a little.

"If I knew, I would not tell you, Mr. Mathews. If I knew anyone who did, I would not care to know them any longer. Now please, Mr. Rhodes and I have a match to attend," her voice cracked a little as she continued walking, passing the camera by and leaving Josh behind. Cody made great effort to shove Josh with his shoulder on the way through. Bryony was walking more quickly now, making it hard for Cody to keep up. She made a sniffling noise, and muttered something about how Cody wasn't much for cardio, slowing down a little.

"Do you want me to go back there and kick his ass?" Cody asked, matching her stride. A single tear fell from her eye and she quickly swiped it away.

"No, Mr. Runnels, that is not necessary. I am just… tired of being asked about Brock. I feel it would have been best most days if I had not taken his last name," she answered quietly. Cody couldn't help but wonder still what their association to one another was. She did not look like the woman in the photo on her desk. Was she another wife of Brock's? She seemed so young. Some people liked younger spouses. Perhaps they were broken up. Cody wasn't sure why, but the thought made him a little happy.

"Why did you?" he asked finally.

"Because it would have made… others happy," she replied as they reached guerilla position.

"Your theme or his, Miss Lesnar?" A stage-hand asked.

"His, please. I need not be reminded for another moment that I am a constant extension of a man I care nothing for," she said, confusing the stage-hand as she stood silently in the dark beside Cody.

"Will you stay out there during my match?" Cody asked. Bryony shook her head.

"I'd rather not be subjected to further inquiry, Mr. Runnels, if you don't mind. I will watch from the safety of my office," she replied. Cody realized why people were so afraid of her. Because people fear those who have things to hide and this woman was a brick wall hiding something quite large and painful from the whole world.

Cody could hear his theme song, and the cheers of a crowd who hadn't yet forgotten him. Bryony stepped aside, allowing him to come out on the ramp first while she was handed a microphone. Randy Orton was in the ring already, his face emotionless as he stood staring at Bryony and Cody on the ramp. Cody flipped up the hood of his vest with his patented smirk.

"Mr. Orton, I introduce to you your opponent this evening, Mr. Cody Rhodes. I do sincerely hope you have a good match. It would be rather disappointing for you to lose that title of yours easily," she said with a smile, turning around and dropping the mic over her shoulder as Cody made his way to the ring. With the confidence of his new boss behind him, and the cheering crowd welcoming his return to competition, Cody could think of nothing but making them, and her, proud.


	4. Chapter 4

Bryony sat in her office, a cleaner desk before her and a cup of coffee awaiting her. Paul Heyman was sitting on the couch, a sour look on his face as he turned on the TV before them. The bell was just ringing in the match, and Cody and Randy were in an instant lock-up.

"Why exactly was Cody Rhodes napping in your office, Bry?" Heyman dared to ask. Bryony was about to take a sip of her coffee when he spoke. She set it down gently, those icy eyes falling on him with great effort. All she had wanted to do was sit quietly and watch the match.

"He was drunk. He vomited in my trash-can. He apologized for running up the bill. He apologized for being intoxicated at my venue. He apologized for breaking my photograph. So I allowed him to sleep off his drinking and compete this evening. Do you have a problem with that?" she asked, raising her brows at him expectantly. He shook his head, looking down at the empty gym bag by the couch.

"And you let him gear up in here? Did you watch, at least? You've got some innate sense of compassion for the most downright fucked up people. You get it from your-" he stopped himself suddenly, his eyes getting big as saucers because he'd been about to say something he shouldn't have. Her eyes bore into him but he refused to meet her gaze. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. This woman scared him more than he liked to admit. She was ruthless, when she needed to be.

"You should realize that by the fact that I keep your pathetic ass around despite my out-growing you so very long ago. And if you ever speak of my mother again, I will put you in the ground beside her," Bryony replied, moving her eyes onto the match. Orton was on the top rope, about to take advantage of the downed Cody. Cody rolled out of the way at the last second, leaving Orton posted in the middle of the ring. When he rose, Cody put him in perfect position for Cross-Rhodes, executed, and went in for the pin. Orton kicked out at 2.

"Sorry, Bry. I didn't mean to. I just meant she was the same way. She took care of people. It was in her nature," he said softly. Bryony looked at him.

"I'm aware, Heyman. Look where it got her. I will not make those mistakes, not-" she paused, feeling a vibration on her desk. She looked to her phone; a call, from a restricted number. She pressed the ignore button quickly, sighing heavily. She let the silence in the room linger for a while.

"Does he think he's clever?" she said suddenly, taking up her phone and shutting it off.

"Who?" Heyman asked, not meeting her gaze as he discreetly texted on his phone.

"Don't act like you don't know. You gave him this number just like the last one," she snapped back, throwing her phone into her desk drawer and slamming it shut.

"He just wants to know how you're doing, Bry," Heyman replied quietly. Cody was outside the ring, taking a moment to recover while Orton stood waiting for him with those venomous eyes.

"Cody Rhodes has the support of our new general manager, Cole. Do you think he's going to win tonight?" King asked.

"Everyone but the tag team champions lost their titles tonight, King. She's backed winners all night. I don't think it's going to stop now," Michael Cole replied, keeping his eyes on the action. This match was one of the best this evening. Cody was giving it his all, and as he made his way back into the ring he looked into the camera for just a moment and winked. Bryony shook her head a little, smiling for just a second.

"You'd better hope he doesn't go spreading around your philanthropic nature, Bry. People will start to think you're a human being of some kind," Heyman said, folding his arms.

"No one would believe him if he did," she replied simply, grasping a small envelope from the corner of her desk.

"Why did you pick him? Did you know he was going to clean up and compete?"

"I picked him because I did not know what he was going to do. Rising to the occasion was not part of my design; it was completely and totally up to him. I told him not to disappoint me, and he is not," she replied, looking up at the TV. In reality, everyone had watched Cody's career spiral since he'd lost his title and she knew that giving him this chance would possibly bring him back into the game. And he was putting up a good fight against the older and more experienced Randy Orton. In fact, he was giving Randy a good run for his money. He hit the Cross Rhodes on him again, and climbed up to the top rope. Cody wasn't normally a high flyer, and this was that golden moment that happened in title matches when the tide would irrevocably turn in one man's favor. The crowd was going crazy for him, and he fed off of their energy. He leapt, flying clean and hitting his target. 1-2-3 and it was done. Cody Rhodes was the new Intercontinental champion. Bryony smiled openly at this result, the same wide smile Cody had when they handed him the belt that was now again rightfully his.

He was only allowed a moment to celebrate, because John Cena's theme song cut off his own, and a crowd of angry former champions took to the stage. Daniel Bryan, the former heavyweight who'd lost this evening to Sheamus; The Miz, who had lost his U.S. title this evening to Zack Ryder; Alberto Del Rio, who had lost his WWE title to CM Punk; and the former tag team champions who had been given their re-match tonight, Chris Jericho and The Big Show. They were led by their banged-up prophet, John Cena; who was now properly fitted in a sling for his pulled shoulder muscle. He had a mic in his other hand, and was preparing to speak.

"We're not here for you, Rhodes. Get out of the ring," They all made their way into the ring, Cody slid out and stood tentatively near the announce tables. Bryony leaned forward at her desk, watching now quite intently with the hint of a smirk playing on her face.

"We're here for Bryony Lesnar. We want to have a word with you, and not over the titantron. You're going to come out here and tell all these men why you just side-lined their careers. How you can just take the titles away from nearly every wrestler on your first evening here as general manager. And we will wait for these answers all night if we have to," John announced, everyone standing in the ring like an angry mob. Randy Orton joined them.

Bryony squared up her shoulders and stood from her desk. Heyman looked horrified.

"You're not actually going out there, are you?" he asked.

"Of course I am," she replied, grabbing her coat and pulling it on. She looked down at her heels, as if debating whether she should change. She shook her head a little, and walked out, shaking security as they tried to accompany her. Heyman grabbed his phone and began dialing furiously.


	5. Chapter 5

The crowd was growing restless, as were the wrestlers. John Cena was waiting for her to pop up on the titantron, to tell him he was sorely mistaken if he thought that she would show her face to a crew of has-beens. He prepared his words for her in his head, calling her a coward and telling her she wouldn't get away with this. But when Brock's theme song began to play, and she stepped out on the stage in her heels and pencil skirt with a calm face, he found that he had no words. She garnered a mic and settled her gaze on Cena.

"Did you need something, gentlemen?" she asked from atop the ramp. The wrestlers around John rallied to the ropes, calling her out and telling her to face them straight on. She began making her way down the ramp. Cody, who'd been nervously hoping she would not do this, met her at the foot of the ramp with a concerned look on his face. He knew the cameras were watching, but this wasn't supposed to be happening. These men were truly angry with her, could lose it and hurt her. That was the last thing Cody wanted to see happen.

"What're you doing? You're heading to a slaughter, Bryony!" he said. She looked at him plainly, calmly.

"I'm a Lesnar whether I like it or not, Mr. Rhodes. I do not back down from a fight, even if I lose," she replied, hearing it filter into the mic in her hand. She allowed him to assist her climbing the steel steps, and when he leapt up and pushed back a few wrestlers so she could enter the ring she seemed a little surprised. In his mind he owed her his title, and he was going to stand by her even if it meant standing face-to-face with all these angry men. He sat on the ropes, watching each of the wrestlers carefully as she stepped into the ring and he accompanied her.

"Understandably, you all must be quite upset with me, and-" she began, but the Miz took the mic from her hands and stepped up into her face.

"Upset?! Really? Really? REALLY? You took our titles from us!" he shouted at her. She kept a calm demeanor despite the man being centimeters from her, but Cody didn't like it. Cody shoved him back a little, stepping between Bryony and him.

"I did not take your titles, your opponents did. All of you lost your titles tonight to younger and hungrier wrestlers. Do you believe it my fault that you could not defend yourselves?" she replied, loudly enough to be heard by each of them. Her words only angered the wrestlers; the Miz, Randy Orton, and the Big Show all closed in on Cody and Bryony. Cody put his hand behind him, dropping his title in favor of taking her hand and keeping her close behind him.

"You do not have to be here," Bryony whispered to him as they backed up slowly into a ring corner. He shook his head, why wouldn't he be here? Did she think he could've just stood back and watched her get hurt?

"I only play an asshole when the cameras are on," Cody answered, squeezing her hand as he felt her hit the ring-buckle. They were cornered, and Cody knew this was going to end in a fight. He heard the pounding feet of people coming down the ramp. Ted DiBiase and Tyson Kidd were running to the ring to help; Daniel Bryan and the Miz quickly leapt out to tend to them outside.

"Guys, come on. We're mad but we aren't going to hurt her," John Cena said, grabbing the shoulder of the Big Show. He pushed John away, continuing to stare down Cody Rhodes with a looming closed fist as Cody blocked the path between him and his target.

Brock's theme song began to play again, causing everyone including Bryony to look to the stage. Was Heyman actually going to come to her aide? He wasn't the fighting type. The man who appeared on the stage, however, was.

"Brock," Bryony muttered, seeing him do his signature warm up leap before he ran to the ring and slid in, immediately going for the Big Show. Hard-hitting lefts and rights to the barrel-chest of the Big Show backed him to the ropes, and Brock pushed him over and onto the floor below with a thud. He turned on Del Rio and Jericho, who attempted to take him on and outnumber him. Cody leapt forward, grabbing Jericho and tossing him into the ring corner, throwing an elbow right into his face. Brock made quick work of Del Rio, tossing him over the ropes and nearly through the announce table. Brock turned on Orton next, but he threw up his hands and backed off. Tyson Kidd and Ted DiBiase were in the advantage too, Tyson tossed Daniel Bryan into the crowd divider and Ted swung Miz into the steel steps. When they leapt into the ring, the only one left was the ring-leader, John Cena. And now, he was out-numbered and staring into the fierce, angry eyes of Brock Lesnar.

"This wasn't what I wanted, Brock. Believe me, I wasn't going to hurt her," John said, raising his good arm in defense. Brock was growling, and he looked like he should've been foaming at the mouth too.

"You're damn right you fucking weren't. Nobody lays their hand on my daughter and lives to tell about it," Brock growled at him, making him back up a few steps. Cody turned around to find Bryony still standing in the corner, finally feeling like he could breathe.

"Why is he here?" she asked, not really to be answered but to express immense disdain. She pushed past Cody and through the ropes, leaping down from the ring and heading up the ramp. Cody chased after her, and Brock was right behind him.

"Bryony, stop! Wait, please," Cody said, quickening his pace to catch up with her as she passed through the curtains.

"Mr. Runnels, I need to leave and I would appreciate it if-" she replied but was cut short but Brock and Paul Heyman cornering them from either direction.

"Bryony, I had to. You were walking into a beat down," Heyman said, his eyes pleading as hers turned deadly.

"Bry, what the hell were you doing out there?" Brock said angrily, stepping up to force Bryony to look at him.

"Taking care of my business, sir. What _exactly_ did it look like?" she replied, unable to look him in the eye. She was instead looking past him; her arms folded, looking uncomfortable and vulnerable. Brock turned his attention to Cody as well.

"It looked like this kid and yourself were about to take on half the locker room because you were being stupid," he answered. Bryony's eyes shot up from Cody to Brock. Apparently the icy look she was a master at affected him too, because he twitched just a little.

"Stupid? I was being stupid? I don't back down from anything. I don't quit. Those men did not scare me, and for the record I did not intend to bring Mr. Runnels into it. Nor did I need you to come out and try to be something you're not," she snapped back. It seemed to hit Brock a little, her abruptness; her sheer unadulterated anger. He put a hand over his head across his hair and looked at her, a little more shameful.

"Listen, I know I wasn't around at all when you were younger but it wasn't my-"

"Save it, Brock. I don't care. You were not, nor will you ever be someone I need. Now if you'll excuse us," she took Cody by the hand and pulled him along with her past Heyman and out the door.

"Bry, c'mon! Don't be like that!" Heyman shouted as they walked quickly away. Neither Heyman nor Brock chased after them. When they hit the locker room there wasn't anyone left around.

"He's your dad," Cody said, finally putting it all together. The woman in the photo must've been her mother. How young would Bryony have to be then?

"Biologically," she answered, brushing off her skirt and coat, "But he did not really… know about me until fairly recently," she added, a little more quietly.

"Hold on for a minute," Cody said, opening the locker room door and glancing inside, "It's empty, come in so we can talk."

"I suppose I do owe you that," she answered, ducking inside after him.

"By the way, thank you for defending me. You did not have to," she said as she took a seat at the bench across from his locker.

"If I had just let them hurt you, what kind of person would that make me? Much worse a person than I want anyone to think I am," he answered, opening his locker and grabbing some street clothes he kept in there for emergencies. It definitely didn't look like they'd be heading back to her office.

"Brock is my father. My grandparents kept Brock out of the loop about me for a long time. They raised me on their own. They did not tell him about me until he retired from fighting," she spoke quietly, her eyes turned down at the floor. Cody pulled on his purple button-up and buttoned it slowly, leaving the top three buttons undone.

"So why are you mad at him? He didn't even know about you," he said, moving over to a shower and pulling the curtain across so he could change out of his bottoms.

"I struggled to be normal and live and go through college and get where I wanted to be. If I had had my way, I would have made sure that man had never known about me. Because now he wants to make amends. He wants to tell me this business and its people are not for me. He wants to be my father when I do not need one. I'm a grown woman now. He missed out on that opportunity long ago," she was crying now, but besides the tears she held the same calm and collected composure as always. She took off her glasses and placed them in the pocket of her jacket, letting the tears drip from her face onto her skirt. Cody buttoned his jeans and stuffed all of his things in his back-up duffel, setting it under the bench and taking a seat beside her. He didn't like to see anyone crying, especially a woman so put-together like Bryony. He put an arm around her and she sank into his shoulder, continuing her silent crying for a few minutes while he rubbed her shoulder and told her things would be okay. He looked down at her, wiped the tears from her face; she looked up at him, locking her sad grey eyes with his.

"I think I'm the only person in this whole place who isn't afraid of you," he said quietly with a little laugh, wiping away a fallen tear with his thumb.

"I'd like to keep it that way if at all possible," she replied, feeling his hand lingering on her face. Cody wanted to make her feel better, because those eyes looking so hurt were killing him. Such a beautiful, young woman looking so broken down; it hurt his heart. And feeling anything like that had been so far removed in his life that it shocked him. He wanted to kiss her, to kiss away the sadness and the fear and all the tears streaming down her face. At the moment it didn't matter that she was his boss, a Lesnar, an inconceivably young woman who he knew very little about. He was sure about now he knew more about this woman than anyone else in this place did. He wanted to make her feel better, so he could as well. He leaned down, leaning her chin up to meet his lips to hers. Before they did, the locker room door burst open and the group of new champions entered in plain clothes carrying their titles and beers. CM Punk had a can of Pepsi in his hand and was bumping it against Tyson Kidd's beer, shouting in celebration when Punk saw them both. Cody and Bryony quickly disengaged from one another and Bryony stood, fixing her skirt and putting her glasses on.

"My apologies for intruding, gentlemen. Please, feel free to celebrate tonight on my tab; you've all earned it," she said, shaking hands with CM Punk and Tyson.

"Goodnight, Mr. Runnels. Congratulations," she said from over her shoulder as she left. Once the door closed, the focus turned solely to Cody.

"So, what was going on with our boss just now?" Ted said, sitting down next to Cody. Cody shook his head. He knew he needed to bury this quickly or things would not look good for either of them.

"Nothing, she just helped me to the locker room. I think I twisted my ankle during my match and she helped me get my things together since you didn't wait for me to start the party," he took Ted's beer and downed a hefty swig of it. Ted laughed and stole it back, buying the story easily in his already buzzed state.

"I could've sworn you two were much closer than that when we got in here," Punk said, not yet convinced.

"Maybe you've had a few too many Pepsi's this evening, Philly! There's no way that Cody would ever be able to score with Lesnar's daughter. And why would he want to? She's a frigid bitch," Sheamus said, slapping Cody on the back.

"I think she's hot," Zack Ryder said defensively, "Have you seen that ass? She's one smokin' babeski."

"She's not bad looking but I'd never want to tangle with Brock over her. Did you see the way he scooped up the Big Show and tossed him over the ropes?" Tyson said. Punk shook his head.

"She's like ice, Zack. People like her only have a cold and colder setting. Whatever you were doing with her, leave it at that, Runnels. Brock Lesnar wouldn't let his daughter date an alcoholic loser like you anyway. I'm calling it a night," he crumpled his Pepsi can and tossed it in the trash, leaving the locker room and slamming the door angrily.

"Man, that guy is not any fun to be around," Zack said, taking a drink of his beer.

"Let's move the party to the bar, guys. You ready to drink the night away, Cody?" Ted asked. Cody hadn't said a word in a while. He'd been looking at his hand, the one that had held hers when he'd thought he was going to fight for her in that ring and the very same that wiped away the tears she'd been crying. He had almost kissed his boss a few minutes ago. That shouldn't have happened, and he was sure what Punk and Tyson had said was true. Cody nodded.

"Let's get to it, champions!" he said, rousing a cheering response from the group. If he couldn't figure himself out, a couple beers would surely muddle it all away.


	6. Chapter 6

Oh no.

The furious knocking on his hotel room door was not a good sign. The phone ringing itself nearly off the bedside table was more evidence to the standard. Still, Cody's tired aching body was not willing to rouse itself as quickly as needed, nor would it give him the hand eye coordination to pick the phone up off the hook the first time. He scrambled to retrieve it from the floor.

"Hold on!" he shouted to the door. They continued knocking aggressively.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"You must be kidding me," her quiet voice on the other end awoke him a great deal more.

"Bryony?"

"Get out of that hotel room and on a plane to San Jose within the next hour or you can kiss your title goodbye, Mr. Runnels," she said, sounding blatantly angry with him. That had been the first time he'd heard her emote and he wasn't fond of it. She hung up on him, and he got up quickly to answer the door.

"Oh good god, Cody! More than I need to see!" Ted said, shielding his eyes. Cody did not normally sleep in the nude.

Oh no.

He turned back to the bed. A sleeping woman's messy blonde hair was across the pillow beside his. Son of a bitch.

"Put your pants on and let's go before Sleeping Beauty gets up, Codes," Ted whispered with urgency. Cody nodded and ducked quickly and quietly back into his room. He didn't remember this woman or much of anything from last night, and he knew that wasn't a good sign. He dressed in some sweats and a tight tee and gathered his things as quickly as he could, and slipped out.

"The boss called and said we need to hop on the first plane to San Jose or she'd skin us alive," Ted said.

"Same here," Cody said as they took to the elevator.

"Hold the damn doors!" the familiar Irish brogue's voice called from down the hall. Cody placed his foot in the door just before it closed, allowing it to pull open in time for Sheamus to get through.

"Wild night last night, huh fellas?" he said, holding a duffel bag close to his side as the three of them shuffled about to get comfortable as the elevator moved downward.

"Did the boss lady call and threaten you too, Sheamus?" Ted asked. Sheamus nodded.

"Told me something about being 'the next example of what disrespect gets you'," he mocked her uber-professional tone with a mix of his own accent. Cody couldn't help but laugh a little.

"She's intense. The nicest thing she's ever done was help you to the locker room, Codes," Ted said. That brought back a memory from the night before. He'd nearly kissed Bryony. She'd cried and he'd held her, and it had brought about feelings Cody hadn't felt in a while. Feelings he'd been hoping to shake with a few too many, but they were still very present; adding guilt to the pile now, thinking of that little blonde asleep in the hotel bed.

"I haven't known you to go for blondes, Codes. Not since Kelly anyway," Ted added. Cody wasn't ready to respond to him, but Sheamus made up for it.

"She was a cute one, though! Good on ya, Cody. I was damn close to closing things up with a nice little brunette but she got caught up again with her friends and slipped through my fingers," Sheamus said, shaking his head for the loss of his woman.

"I don't even remember taking her with me," Cody admitted quietly, making the shame evident and surprising to the two of them. Before they could respond the elevator doors opened and his guilt culminated in the form of that beautiful strawberry blonde standing with arms folded in the lobby before them. She looked immensely different in tight form-fitting yoga pants and a tight pink tank top, a small black track jacket covering her but also drawing attention to her bare skin and cleavage. Her hair was parted to the left and down in a ponytail across her shoulder. She looked deeply unhappy from behind her glasses.

"We thought you'd left already," Ted said as the three of them stepped out of them elevator.

"I did. And now I'm back on the request of Mr. Huffman to personally escort his main event tonight to the taping. Excuse my appearance, I had better things to do up until now," her anger was directed solely at Cody, as if this was solely and entirely his fault; as if she knew already what he'd done. And as if it were not bad enough to think she knew, she was about to know exactly what he'd done.

"Hey!" the squeaky female voice drove everyone's attention to the second elevator, where a sloppy looking blonde in a tight dress stepped out and locked eyes with Cody.

"Shit," Ted whispered under his breath.

"Hey, you just left me alone in that room; that was rude!" she said, pulling at her tangled hair and braiding it across her shoulder as she glared with messy-makeup eyes at Cody.

"I… apologize," Cody said quietly. He could feel Bryony's eyes staring daggers into him.

"You'd better! Now are you going to take me to breakfast or even ask for my number?" she said in a demanding tone. Sheamus scoffed.

"He is not," Bryony replied quietly, drawing the blonde's attention to her.

"Who're you? His mother?" she squeaked, looking Bryony up and down with a wrinkled nose. Bryony smirked in a way that made Cody and the boys cringe. This was the look a cat gave a mouse that'd made a crucial mistake in their game.

"I am not. I am his boss. And he will be coming with me. And if you have a problem with that, I am the person you'll need to take it up with," she said. This seemed to irritate the hung-over blonde.

"No, I think he should come with me. Cody, are you coming with me?" she grabbed him by his arm forcefully, well; as forcefully as a 100lb blonde could. Damn, this seemed all too familiar. He really had picked a winner last night. And she'd set off the ticking Bryony bomb.

"He's not going anywhere with you, child. Chances are he doesn't even remember your name. And looking like that, you should know exactly what a one-night-stand is by now. Get your hands off of my talent," Bryony stated. The blonde huffed at her.

"Listen, bitch-" the blonde started, but Bryony stopped her by walking over and grabbing her by her hair, wrapping the braid around her fist and shoving her into the big metal elevator doors beside the boys face-first.

"I am not anyone's bitch, child. Get lost before I guarantee you are never found," she whispered just loud enough for her and the boys to hear. Bryony pulled her forward and shoved her into the door again, and then let her drop to her knees on the floor in tears.

"I hate weak women," she muttered, turning around and leaving. The men followed behind her, though out of arm's reach just in case she wasn't through dishing out the pain.

"Bryony," Cody said, speeding up to match her stride. She ignored him, beginning her trek down the sidewalk towards a waiting limousine. He grabbed her arm to get her attention. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, because being sorry didn't entirely make sense; but she wasn't going to let him get that far.

"I know where those hands have been, Mr. Runnels, get them off of me before I leave you in this town," she said, pulling off her glasses in exchange for a pair of large pink-framed aviator sunglasses. He let her go, and she opened the limo door and ducked inside. She sat quietly at the far end, and Cody had the unfortunate gift of sitting directly across from her. He couldn't tell behind her sunglasses if she was looking at him, but every once in a while he could feel a little chill and when he tried to look at her, she'd turn away to search for anything else. The guilt ate at him but there was nothing he could say that would make that any better now. Not without blowing his cover to the guys in the car. But what cover did he have? He had almost kissed her in the locker room, who knows if she would even have reciprocated? A woman like her would not have interest in someone like him, someone as messed up and destructive as he was. She did, however, toss that one-night-stand of his like a rag-doll. Why? Because she was wasting Bryony's time? Or because Cody had wasted his time with her instead of Bryony? Whatever it was with her, he'd put himself on the wrong side of it. And he didn't like it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Yessir, I completely understand your frustration. Yessir, I will have them there in time for their matches. Yessir, my word is gold; I am a Lesnar, sir, every word of mine is gold… for about eight matches, right. Very funny, sir. Goodbye," Bryony hung up quickly, stuffing her phone back into the pocket of her track jacket. She looked around at the waiting area nearest their terminal, refusing to lock eyes with Cody as she passed over her. Sheamus was sitting down beside her with his feet up extending across two seats. Ted was in the row seated behind him, fast asleep. It was an hour until the next plan to San Jose International, and they'd already been here for 45 minutes.

"Boss, I'm hungry. Can we get a bite?" Sheamus said. Bryony looked down at him, judging his trustworthiness. She was treating them like criminals, and their every move was documented and under scrutiny. She was truly unhappy to have had to turn back and pick up three hung-over superstars, and Cody had a feeling that little blonde one-nighter hadn't made things any more cheerful for her.

"What would you like to eat, Mr. Farrelly?" she asked, reaching for the clutch under her arm and pulling out a shiny black Am-Ex card.

"A juicy double cheeseburger. Make it two. And a burrito for Teddy bear back there," he answered, lying back against the seat a little. Bryony shook her head slightly.

"If the three of you move from this spot while I am gone, I will rip your tickets to shreds and you will be stuck in this airport-shaped hell for six more hours," she said, taking off down towards the food court. Cody took the opportunity to tag along.

"I thought I said not to leave the waiting area," she said after attempting to ignore him for a few feet.

"I wanted to help and… to apologize," he replied as they got into the line for food.

"Apologize for what, Mr. Runnels?" she asked dully. It wasn't as though she didn't know, it was that she didn't seem to care.

"For… being late and making you come back here, for drinking so much last night that I took some girl back to the hotel… that you had to contain," he added hastily, trying hard to sound neutral. She looked directly at him, her arms folded and an eyebrow raised.

"Listen to me, and listen to me clearly because I do not ever repeat myself. Change is not a process I have ever found to be easy. And I will not pretend to be some martyr who came forth valiantly to rescue you from all of your demons. You can drink if you want to. You can have sex with disgusting trashy women if that is your desire. But I," she paused and placed her order. When they had stepped aside she continued, "I will not allow you to make a fool of me or the business I run. When those boundaries are crossed, we have a problem. Now as for last night, in the locker room," she stopped, feeling the pocket of her track suit and fishing out her phone.

"Excuse me," she said quietly. Cody was slightly grateful that she had to step away, and slightly anxious about what she'd been about to say. He thought for a moment she would've completely ignored their little encounter. She quickly hung up and turned back to Cody.

"I apologize. As I was saying-" their order number was called. Cody went and picked up the two large bags of food and looked to her, but she was already heading down the hall back to their terminal. He caught up with her.

"I'm sorry," he said again. She looked at him.

"You need not be," she replied, taking one bag from him so they were equal.

"But I am. I crossed the line last night with you. It's just that I felt bad, and you were crying and I just… I wanted to make you feel better. I wanted to kiss you." Admitting what he had seemed to finally make her stop.

"I know, and I did too but…" she trailed off, not able to find satisfying words in her immense repertoire that could possibly express what she wanted to say.

"There you two are! I was about to pass out from hunger! C'mon, look at what I drew on Teddy bear's face," Sheamus said joyously, snatching the bags from both of their hands and making off back to the waiting area.

"We've got a flight to catch. This can be discussed after the show," she said, following Sheamus. Cody stood there for a moment. She had wanted to kiss him too. But something was keeping her back. What she'd said to him earlier was echoing in his head.

_Change is not a process I have ever found to be easy. And I will not pretend to be some martyr who came forth valiantly to rescue you from all of your demons._

He'd been this way for so long. And she'd seen him in the crux of it. And until the glorious moment in the hotel lobby today, she had not judged him for it; even seemed to care for him despite it.

_You can drink if you want to. You can have sex with disgusting trashy women if that is your desire._

It was not his desire to sleep with trashy woman. He didn't want to spend the rest of his days tied up in one night endeavors he couldn't remember in the morning. The way she'd said it, the disgust in her articulate manicured words made him feel just that much more ashamed of himself. He did not want her to look down on him like that.

_I will not allow you to make a fool of me…_

And that was truly what it was about. As he was now, why would she want him? Just to be disappointed when he stumbled in early in the morning smelling like other women? That was not what he wanted for her. And if he wanted her, he needed to clean up and show her that he would never make a fool of her.

* * *

"Oh Codes, you shouldn't have," Ted mocked Cody as he entered the locker room with a bundle of roses.

"They're not for you, jackass," Cody answered, ducking past Ted and checking himself out in the mirror.

"Who are they for? McMahon? You're not going to butter him up with any flowers," Ted replied. Cody had indeed earned himself a meeting with Vince McMahon this evening, as well as Bryony; but he was not as concerned as he probably should have been. Bryony, however, had been a wreck when she'd gotten the news.

"None of your business, Ted. Just shut up and tell me I look good," Cody replied, fixing his hair so it spike perfectly. Ted shook his head, pushing Cody out of the mirror playfully.

"You look like you always do, except sober for once," Ted said, leaning down and lacing up his boots.

"And that's the way I'm going to stay, Ted. No more drinking," Cody had decided this the minute they'd taken off on the plane. When she'd sat beside him and fallen asleep on his shoulder for a little while; it had been the most comfortable time he'd spent on an airplane in his life. How safe she'd felt beside him, how cute she looked fast asleep by his side. It made him smile to think about, and the genuine little blush crept up on his cheeks.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with Cody Runnels?" Ted replied, taking a rose from the bundle and taking a whiff of it. Cody snatched it back and put it in the bunch carefully.

"I think I've fallen in love, Ted," Cody replied honestly. If there was anyone he could tell, it had to be Ted.

"With who? Not that squeaky little stripper you slept with. Our boss swept the floor with her, it was embarrassing."

"No, you idiot. With our boss, with Bryony."

"You're not serious," Ted stood, shaking out his boots, "I mean, I stand by all your usual crazy decisions and I definitely stand by your newfound sobriety. But trying to date Bryony Lesnar is the absolute craziest thing you've ever asked me to stand by."

Cody looked at his longtime friend. Ted had been by his side through it all, the come-ups, the stardom, the failed relationship with Kelly Kelly, and the aftermath of his fall from grace.

"I haven't been right since things with Kelly ended, and Bryony is… too damn good for me. But she makes me feel something that for once, I don't want to numb with booze. And that's something worth trying for in my book."

Ted let his speech sink in a little before nodding.

"Then I've got your back, buddy. Now, you should get to that meeting and make sure your back isn't being tossed out of here by the big boss," Ted said, fixing Cody's collar a little and patting his shoulder. Cody smirked at himself in the mirror. They did call him dashing for a reason...


	8. Chapter 8

Cody could see Bryony standing with her back to him as he made his way down the hall. She was back in business attire, black capris and a tight lilac blouse. He smiled, she looked so cute and she'd kept her long pretty red-blonde hair down. As he approached, he could see her engaged in conversation with CM Punk, who was a Raw superstar and not scheduled to be here. He was in plainclothes, and suddenly it occurred to Cody that last night's fiasco with the former champions was probably what this meeting was about.

"I'm not worried, Bryony. You didn't do anything wrong," Punk said. Bryony nodded.

"Regardless, Phil, this situation cannot be taken lightly. I was accosted by a ring full of his superstars, and because of Brock and Cody defending me some of them are now sidelined with injuries. That affects the storyline. And the storyline affects everything. Cody and Brock broke kayfabe, and that is absolutely inexcusable. I am responsible for them both and-" she stopped when Punk saw Cody standing behind her.

"Speak of the damn devil. Welcome to the show, Cody. Mr. McMahon likes daisies last I heard," Punk said with a smirk.

"But our boss likes roses, Philly. Take note," Cody replied, handing them to Bryony. She smiled a little.

"Thank you, Mr. Runnels. That is very kind of you. Roses are my favorite, how did you know?"

Cody shrugged nonchalantly, his signature conceited smirk playing on his face. Punk glared at him.

"Probably because every girl he gives flowers to _just loves_ long-stemmed roses," he spat back, making Bryony frown slightly.

"Don't be rude, Phil. I'll let you have one of them if you ask nicely," she said, pulling one rose out and handing it to Punk. He glared at Cody.

"Just wait until Brock sees those. You'll be wishing the Big Show had crushed you last night," Punk said, opening the conference room door and allowing them to file inside. Sure enough, Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman were seated on either side of Vince McMahon, accompanied by John Cena and Daniel Bryan. Also seated were two characters they didn't expect, Dusty Rhodes and Cody's brother, Dustin.

"Good evening, folks. Glad you could join us. Lovely flowers, Bryony," Vince commented as they each took their seats. Bryony sat at the opposite head of the table with Punk and Cody on either side of her.

"Thank you. They were a gift," she replied, straightening her blouse and pulling back her hair into a quick ponytail.

"From who?" Brock asked, his face as hard as stone. She glanced up at him with icy eyes.

"From Mr. Runnels. Cody Runnels," she clarified. Cody smiled a little but Brock's eyes on him made him swallow uncomfortably.

"Boy, I've been hearing some not too nice things about the state a' yer damn career lately," Dusty said, bringing the attention to them. Cody had figured this was coming.

What's going on, Codes?" Dustin asked.

"Everything you've heard is true, dad. But I've straightened it all out. With Bryony's help. She opened my eyes to it, and even gave me a chance to regain my title," Cody said, Vince made a gruff noise from his seat.

"Which, for the record, was unplanned. In fact, that whole evening was unplanned," John Cena spoke up, the frustration in his voice evident.

"Right up to accosting and attempted assault of the Raw administration?" Heyman cut in. John shook his head, sitting back in his seat angrily. Vince cleared his throat, directing the attention to himself.

"Listen, folks. What we're here to do today is understand where to go from now. What you led last night after the show was over the line, John, was beyond unacceptable even under the circumstances. The response from the universe, however, has been overwhelmingly positive."

And oh, wasn't that what it always came down to in the end? The ratings. Vince leaned forward, looking at Cody as though he were the only man in the room.

"No more drinking, son. I'm not going to make Bryony your keeper, but you," his gaze turned to her "You must keep an eye on this man. He needs to be in his prime if we're going to put him up against the best. And you need to get back to training, because you will be out of the office and in the arena with Cody Rhodes a lot more. How rusty are you?"

Punk choked on the water he was sipping. Bryony's eyes widened a little.

"I haven't wrestled in two years, sir," she replied. Brock shook his head.

"She's not getting in the ring with anyone," he said gruffly.

"You used to wrestle?" Cody asked. She looked at him, about to answer when Punk cut her off.

"In the Indies. She whooped my ass once or twice. It was… pretty hot," he winked at Bryony, who wasn't entirely sure how to take the statement or the gesture.

"You'd better rethink your choice of words, tiny punching bag," Brock growled. Punk straightened up in his chair a little.

"I used to wrestle, that's how I got into this business in the first place. Vince enjoyed my business savvy only slightly more than my wrestling," she replied with a small smile, toying with a rose from the bundle. Vince nodded, a gruff laugh escaping him.

"That is true. I just need to know you're still in shape enough to take a hit or two if need be. Not that I am saying she will," Vince added to Brock and Heyman, "You'll be appearing tonight. Get to hair and make-up as soon as possible."

Bryony nodded, taking up her flowers.

"And as for you two," Vince turned to John and Daniel, "John, you're off until you're medically cleared to compete. And if I hear you're behind any other half-hearted uprising, you will be fined and suspended. Daniel, you've got a match tonight. Get ready," Vince rose up from his chair, prompting the same from everyone else. They all filed out, and before Cody could say he'd accompany Bryony to hair and make-up, he was grabbed up by his brother and dad.

"Ya never call, damnit," Dusty said, throwing his arms around his much smaller son. Cody smiled a little; though his family was a little off he loved them all the same. And it was nice to hear his dad's voice. He really didn't ever call, and it was a good time to spend a few minutes with people he rarely ever saw.

"I'll take you to hair and make-up, Bryony Annabelle, let's go," Punk said, throwing an arm over her. She looked at him, still a little confused as to her old friend's sudden change of attitude.

"I've got to get to the gym so… maybe I can call you later," Brock added hesitantly to Bryony. She shrugged a little.

"You're welcome to make the attempt, sir," she replied, though not sounding as abrasive as she usually did when she spoke to Brock. Seeing Cody with his family, his father doting on him and rubbing his hair out of place; it hurt a little. Punk pulled her off in the direction of Cosmo, and Cody called out that he'd meet up with her later.

"So, what is going on with you and that kid?" Punk asked as soon as they rounded the corner and they were far out of earshot.

"Cody?" she replied quite innocently, playing with another rose in the bundle. Punk adjusted his arm around her, pulling the petal from a rose and tossing it to the floor.

"Yes, Cody. I thought you '_didn't date wrestlers'_," he answered, throwing air quotes with his hands. She bristled a little at the statement.

"There's nothing going on between Cody Runnels and myself, Phil. And if there was or ever is, it's not any of your business," she replied. He looked down at her, stopping them in their walking.

"He's a little too old for you, don't you think? And he's still considered a wrestler, no matter how badly he does it. What happened to the old you? Always at the gym, learning everything they could teach you and perfecting every move they threw at you? Why did you stop calling? Stop training with me?" Punk said, taking her glasses from her nose when she didn't respond.

"Why do you wear these anyway? You've never needed glasses," he said, looking over them. She grabbed them back from him.

"I feel as though they give me a more professional appearance," she answered, putting them in her pocket and looking at him. She felt naked without her glasses, even if they were only for reading. It was who she was now.

"You're beautiful exactly like this. Just like I remember you the first time I saw you back in Chicago," he said, looking her deeply in the eyes. Her nose twitched a little. He was too close to her, and she wasn't fond of being cornered after last night. Where had he been last night anyway? Not at her side, like Cody had been. He had no right to speak. In the short time she'd known Cody he'd been a better friend to her than he had all these years.

"You're a charmer, Phil. But you've got your title already. Plan on keeping it and you won't need to be layering on all this icing," she said, putting herself away from him.

"Just stay away from Cody Runnels, Bry. Trust me, he's not worth your time," Punk said. Bryony shook her head a little. His intentions were not right here, she could sense it.

"I've got to go," she said quietly, walking off towards hair and make-up.

"He's a loser, Bry!" he called to her. She'd spend the next hour with nothing to think about but his words, and the past she shared with the straight-edge superstar.


	9. Chapter 9

Cody pushed open the door to hair and make-up, searching around for Bryony in the mix of Divas and Superstars.

"Need something, sweetie?" one of the make-up girls asked him with a smile.

"I'm looking for this beautiful strawberry blonde, with a perfect smile and an articulate nature. She's supposed to be in here," he answered. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Well, aren't you adorable? She's in the corner chair, getting her hair curled," she pointed Cody in her direction, where he could see a tall short-haired female with a curling iron. He made his way over, catching sight of her in the mirror as he approached.

"Holy… wow. Bryony…" he stopped, the woman spun Bryony around in her chair and she stood uncertainly. She was wearing an extremely form-fitting pink mini-skirt and a black buttoned top, with knee-high black boots. Her hair was styled in a 50's pin-up, with platinum streaks throughout; her make-up was done in a similar style. She put her glasses on and looked at him.

"Do I look alright?" she asked. He nodded, unable to speak. She looked so amazing, Cody just wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take her somewhere quiet. The stylist smiled, taking a rose from the bundle she'd placed in a vase next to the vanity and snipping it so she could fit it behind Bryony's ear.

"I'd say you look absolutely beautiful, Miss Lesnar. Thanks for letting me have my way with you," the stylist said, touching her up a little. She threw a quick wink at Cody.

"Well, I suppose a make-over was deeply overdue. Are you here to tell me we're up soon?" she asked Cody. He managed only a nod again. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Re-connect your jaw and let's go, Mr. Runnels," she said, picking up her vase and beginning her brisk walk out of the room. Cody followed her like a hungry puppy, his eyes unable to move from that amazing ass. Zack Ryder had been right. She was one hot babeski.

"Mr. Runnels, do not objectify me. Walk beside me or walk away from me," she said, snapping him out of his daze. He quickened his pace to catch up with her.

"Sorry, it's just… I've never seen you looking so…"

"Attractive?" she finished for him, sounding a little bitter. He shook his head.

"No, no, you're always attractive. It's just… this is a very revealing outfit. You're not uncomfortable are you?"

She shrugged a little.

"This skirt is much tighter and shorter than I'd like it to be, but I'll live. I'm fairly certain Brock will have a heart attack, though. He saw photos of me when I wrestled, and I looked far more conservative in that attire," she replied. They arrived in guerilla, alone. Cody turned to her, taking her in while she stared questioningly back at him.

"What is it, Mr. Runnels?" she asked. He smiled.

"You're so beautiful it's hard not to look at you," he replied. She broke a small smile, shaking her head a little and fixing the rose in her hair.

"You are too much sometimes, Mr. Runnels," she replied with a little laugh.

"Just call me Cody," he said, stepping a little closer to her. She looked away from him.

"Maybe one day, Mr. Runnels," she replied, her eye catching a stage-hand signaling them. Cody's theme music started up. He touched her hand for a moment, then adjusted his title belt across his shoulder and made his way out onto the stage. Justin Gabriel could be seen from the other end of guerrilla, awaiting his time to come out and challenge Cody.

* * *

"Hello, and welcome to Friday night Smackdown! I am your new and improved Intercontinental champion, Cody Rhodes!"

His pompous smirk made Bryony smile from her place backstage. She'd always been a fan of the heel characters; they always had more personality, more flare. And Cody's character was a perfect example of that. Her eyes were glued to him, and he seemed to know it. He winked into the camera beside him just before continuing his promo.

"Good evening, Miss Lesnar," the slow, deep, calculating voice of Randy Orton made her jump a little. She turned around, expecting to be bombarded by his entire group as she had been the night before. But it was only him and he stood a ways off from her in plain clothes, arms folded.

"Good evening, Mr. Orton," she turned back to the monitor, catching cameras in the shadows out of the corner of her eye. A fair attempt at secrecy, she'd have to applaud McMahon for trying to get an honest reaction out of her. She was far too aware of his ways for that.

"I'd like to ask you a question, if you'll have me," he said, taking a step or two closer to her. She noted it but didn't turn away from the monitors. When she did not reply, he continued.

"I'd like to ask you for a rematch against Cody on Raw," the way he spoke often told people his intent was deeper than his surface words. Bryony was becoming quickly privy to that. The way she said Cody's name, only his first name; the way he continued to cross the boundary of their distance, of her comfort level with him after last night.

"It's neither the time nor the place, Mr. Orton. I understand it must have been upsetting for you as well as everyone else, but we are currently taping for Smackdown and I am not the general manager of-" he began to walk and quickly passed her by before she could finish her sentence.

"If you will not give me what I'm asking for, I'll take it," he said simply before ducking through the curtains to his music. Cody had been in the advantage on this before he heard Orton's music and Justin Gabriel took the opportunity with the distraction to attempt a roll-up but only got a 2 count. Bryony debated going out, kicking that smug look off of Orton's face as he made his way down to the ring. If he stepped in, in any capacity; she would revoke his re-match privilege. If any of the former champions did anything to Teddy Long's show tonight, she would have their heads. Orton was seated at ringside beside Michael Cole, watching. Waiting. His only problem was his predictability. Cody was being worn down by Justin Gabriel, and when he finally hit the Cross-Rhodes, and pinned him for a 3 count; Orton was ready to make his move.

"Cue my music," Bryony said simply to the stagehand, which resulted in some quick hand-signals and speaking quickly into a mic. She could hear Brock's music, the cheers and boos of a crowd unsure of how to feel about a woman like her. Randy froze in the ring, his eyes on the stage but ready for Cody; who was breathing heavily in the opposite corner. She picked up a microphone, and smiled to Randy.

"Mr. Orton, what exactly do you think you're doing? I may not be running this show, but-"

_ You know it's the Mac-militant, coming to get it on…_

Bryony took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the ring as Teddy Long took up at mic and focused on her.

"You're damn right you don't run this show, child. Now let me handle my business. Randy, you want to fight so badly? I've got a match for you. Meet your opponent."

As Ryback marched out, growling and fuming and ready to destroy Randy Orton, Bryony could hear the small click of the mic in her hand being cut and the cameras moving away from them. She let it drop to the ground, and turned to Teddy.

"Do not refer to me as a child," she said coldly, her regularly icy eyes panning over his still face as he remained facing the crowd. She could feel Cody's eyes on her as he made his way up the ramp.

"Why not, Bryony? You are a child. As well as a guest on this show. Booker would agree with me on this. Stay out of Smackdown affairs," he responded without looking at her. He turned around and passed her by on his way through the curtain. Bryony narrowed her eyes a little, turning sharply as Cody met her and walking with him through the curtains.

"What was that about, Bry?" he asked, noting her particularly sour expression.

"Nothing surprising. Mr. Long was keen on my position before it was granted to me. Needless to say, he doesn't find me fit for the task at hand," she replied, catching the eyes of Paul Heyman awaiting her backstage. He was flanked by the same two bodyguards that had been at her door the night before.

"Bry, if you would please, and I really mean it this time, stop walking right into large fires; they've asked that we head along to the next venue. You've gotten us kicked out! And in this city, I don't mind. But being kicked out is just bad for business," Heyman said, exasperatingly folding his arms.

"Mr. Huffman asks me here in order to retain his unruly talent, and then asks me to leave? Does he think he's my boss? Because the man is sorely mistaken if he does. I'll leave, and gladly so. But I'll remember this, he can bank on that," Bryony replied sternly, grasping her hands together behind her back so tightly it made her knuckles pale.

"Well, on that note," Heyman said, dismissing her fury completely, "Brock is in town and I'm planning to get dinner with him. You should join us."

"I'd rather jump off the roof of a large building," she replied immediately.

"Just go, Bry, how bad can it be?" Cody said, reminding them both he was still present.

"How bad can it be?" Bryony repeated, turning on him. Those eyes were an arctic ocean of disdain.

"How would you know if it was any bad at all, Bry? You've never gone to dinner with him. I'm sure he'll pay, if that's what you're worried about," Heyman said, again so dismissive he even began to straighten his tie in the middle of his speech. Bryony stomped her foot a little, digging her heel into the cement.

"Ah yes, that $60 tab plus tip will make up for 18 years of child support and concern for my well-being. You know what? If this is on Brock's tab, I would like to invite you to accompany us, Mr. Runnels," she turned to Cody, awaiting his response as soon as she spoke the offer. Cody shrugged.

"Sure, I'll go."

"You've got to be kidding with me. Cody, you do not know what you're getting yourself into here. Put some pants on, Bry. Your father's going to have a heart attack when he sees you in this on Friday," Heyman looked her up and down, shaking his head a little.

"Do I look alright to you, Cody?" she asked. He nodded.

"You look beautiful, Bry."

"Thank you, I'm going as I am. I'll have the limo pull up to the lot. I'll see you shortly, Mr. Runnels. I have some business to tend to," she stalked off quickly, passing between Heyman and the bodyguards, who all turned and took up step with her. Cody could hear Heyman shouting at her as the sound of her clicking heels faded quickly with distance.

"Do NOT hit anyone, Bry! We have a reputation to uphold here!"


	10. Chapter 10

Bryony was silent. Deathly silent. And sitting beside her and in between two large bodyguards in a limousine made it that much more uncomfortable.

"So, you guys just follow Bryony around and keep people away from her, huh?" Cody asked, looking at the two large men. They both looked down at him.

"Yeah," the blonde one said simply.

"They don't talk much. They're Brock's men. So they just watch my every move and then report back to him about it," Bryony spoke up finally, adjusting her skirt a little. The outfit made her terribly uncomfortable, but she knew it would be worse for Brock to see her in. She really couldn't stand him, Cody realized quickly. And though he felt it unjustified, he figured he also didn't know the whole story.

They arrived at a large restaurant that looked much fancier than Cody would've imagined a man like Brock Lesnar to dine at.

"How precious. He's catering to his date's overzealous tastes," Bryony said, throwing a glare over at Heyman, who snorted with attempt to contain his laughter.

The bodyguards made their way out of the car first, then Cody, then Bryony. Before one of the guards could help her, Cody stepped forward and offered her his hand. She smiled, taking his hand and not letting go of it until they entered the restaurant. The whole place was decked out in the typical red velvet and gold trimmings, every table had seated in it pretentious looking people overly dressed for overly priced food. The host glanced up at them as they all entered, looking incredibly strange flanked by two large bodyguards.

"Miss Lesnar and… company, allow me to show you to your table," he said quietly, grabbing menus and leading them through a maze of table the guards had to squeeze uncomfortably through. Brock was seated at a large table with a female beside him, her back turned to Bryony. Her eyes narrowed at the female, a tiny blonde seated beside Brock and fawning about something.

"Of course," she muttered, hesitating for a moment as the host made his way to the table and began setting down menus. The bodyguards moved to their respective places, with two seats between them for Bryony and Cody. Brock greeted them, and his eyes met the two still hesitating at the bottom of the steps. When they locked on Cody, Cody could swear he heard a growl escape from Brock's lips.

"I don't want to do this, Cody," Bryony said quietly, real fear evident in her tone. She'd called him by his name, she was really afraid of this. And though he was deeply fearful of the angry MMA fighter staring him down right now, he laced his fingers into Bryony's hand and squeezed tightly.

"I'm here. It'll be alright," he answered. She looked down at their hands together, how they fit; and she took a deep breath and began to ascend the steps up to their table. Heyman was stuffing a napkin into his collar, laughing about something with the blonde.

"Good evening, Bryony," Brock said, turning everyone to the two of them seating themselves.

"Good evening, sir. Good evening, Barbara."

Cody pulled out her seat for her, taking his seat and finding her reaching for his hand under the table. The blonde, who Cody could now see didn't look much older than him and wore a lot of make-up, frowned a little at Bryony.

"I told you, Brybry, just call me Barbie," she said.

"And I told you if you ever addressed me as Brybry again, I would-"

"Enough, both of you; let's order some food and attempt not to kill each other this evening," Heyman said, his face buried in the menu. The guards sat awkwardly; looking down at their menus but unsure if they were included.

"Whatever you two would like to eat, you may. This is on Mr. Lesnar's tab this evening, and he doesn't pay you two nearly enough to stalk me as it were," Bryony said, pushing their menus closer to them.

"I don't pay them to stalk you, Bry. I pay them to make sure you're safe. If you didn't notice, you're not exactly popular with the roster you look over on Mondays," Brock said from across the table. He was still looking at Cody, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

"My popularity is not my concern. Giving the men and women who deserve a chance to shine their time to do so is my concern," she replied sharply, squeezing Cody's hand a little. He smiled at her. He'd been given his chance to shine because of her, she'd believed in him and that meant the world in his eyes.

"What a wonderful thing to do, Brybry! You're so sweet," Barbie said. Bryony tried her hardest to nod, and leave it at that. Heyman snorted from behind his menu.

"It's all well and good to throw the rookies a bone, but your ratings should be your number one priority," Heyman said.

"According to Vince, my ratings were through the roof last Raw. And I intend to keep them that way. I have a meeting with Creative tomorrow afternoon and they will be filling me in on my place within this newly developed storyline."

"You'd better not be wrestling," Brock said. Before Bryony could snap back at him, the waiter made his way up to take everyone's order. Barbie ordered a salad, predictably; and everyone else ordered a steak. The table remained silent until the food arrived, and Bryony finally let Cody's hand go so they could eat.

"Bryony Annabelle Dunne, since when do you dine at a dive like this?"

Bryony looked up at CM Punk heading their way, much to the dismay of Brock Lesnar. He was trailed by Ted DiBiase, Beth Phoenix, Tyson Kidd, and Natalya; who were all dressed nicely.

"Whatever Daddy dearest wants for his darling daughter," Bryony replied quietly, rising from her seat to take the hands of Phil's guests.

"Well, we're going to grab some food and head out to this place called Motiv, you should join us. I'm sure your date's already run up a tab there, so he's probably not welcome. But I'd be more than happy to show you a good time," Punk said, taking her hand as she pulled away from Natalya. She didn't retreat from him, but sent a gaze his way that made him let her go. Brock placed a fist on the table, watching the scene carefully.

"Guests and dates have always been synonyms for you, haven't they?" Bryony muttered, eyeing Beth's sour look at Punk, "Nonetheless, I'm faring for a quiet night in, thank you for your invitation, Phil. Goodnight," she took her seat again, continuing to eat her food while Punk stared at her, a mild look of disbelief on his face. Brock almost laughed, but covered it up as a strange grunt before taking a drink of water. Punk turned around and the group of them took their seats at the other end of the restaurant.

Heyman looked from Brock to Bryony, and then shook his head.

"Think something's funny, sir?" Bryony asked without looking up at Brock. He shook his head a little, going back to his food. Barbie piped up in his place.

"He never liked that Phil boy. I'm just glad you're seeing someone without any tattoos," she said, smiling at Cody. Bryony looked up, furrowing her brows. Heyman laughed outright.

"Dating a woman who's never seen you without a shirt. Very clever, Brock, very clever," Heyman said, shaking his head with a smirk. Another gruff noise similar to suppressed laughter from Brock made him take another drink of water. He seemed to be enjoying himself here, enjoying the dysfunction of the people around him. Bryony felt a little as though she wasn't necessarily having a bad time either.

" I've seen Brock without a shirt! I mean… that's not what I mean. I'm just saying, Cody seems nice; we both think he's nice," Barbie replied, putting her hand over Brock's. There was a ring on her finger. A ring. On her left ring finger. Bryony resisted the urge to lunge across the table and strangle her, to strangle them both; the fucking nerve.

"Your opinion is both irrelevant and unnecessary. Mr. Runnels was gentleman enough to accompany me to my own personal hell, and for that I figured he was owed an overpriced steak. As soon as we're done here, we're heading back to the corporate hotel and forgetting any of this ever happened. You see," she set down her utensils and put her elbows on the table, leaning her chin on her hand and looking directly at Brock for the first time the entire evening, "I'm hoping that by finally giving into your base and asinine demand to spend time with me, you'll actually leave me the fuck alone," She eyed Barbie for a moment before going back to Brock, "You're not barren, are you, Barbie? Why don't you and Brock have kids? That way he can be a father to someone who actually wants him around."

"Bryony," Cody and Heyman both said. Bryony kept her eyes solidly on Brock, who set his fork down and balled his fist into his palm. He sighed, looking away from her.

"You hate me, I get that. I don't know why, I don't understand why. James and Sue don't hate me; they don't blame me because your mother told them not to. Your mother told them not to tell me about you. How is that my fault?"

"A fault is not what I am placing here. A lack of need is what I'm trying to get you to understand, sir. I have a lacking of space for a man like you in my life. I did not need you when I was young, when my grandfather had to go back to work in a supermarket after retiring from 30 years of running his own business to raise me. I did not need you when my grandmother fought and beat cancer twice while I maintained straight A's from kindergarten to graduate school. And paid for all of it myself. The last time I needed you was when I watched my mother take her last breath in front of me. And whatever she said before then doesn't matter to me. I hate you for not being there when she died. That was when I needed you. You didn't even show your face at her funeral, you sent James a blank check for 'whatever it cost' and a condolences card with no signature. At least I could've sold her funeral card for some tuition money if you'd fucking signed it. Excuse me," she got up, placing her napkin down over he partially eaten food, and began to descend the steps and leave the restaurant/ Brock had his head in his hands, Barbie was trying to get him to move and go after her but Heyman was preaching the opposite.

"She's more like you then you think, Brock. Let her leave. We've made progress," Heyman was saying, taking Brock's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I need to go. Thank you for dinner, sir. I'm sorry," Cody repeated awkwardly, rising quickly and making his way to the door Bryony had exited from a moment ago, passing Punk's table and taking great care to push Punk back into his seat before he could get up to follow Bryony too.


	11. Chapter 11

Cody had to break into a run to catch up with her already at the end of the block. She had her phone pressed tightly to her right ear and tears were streaming from her eyes in that same calm cry she'd exhibited before.

"I just don't understand why, poppa. Why does he want to be around me? I don't want him around me," she was saying to the other person, who Cody could hear mumbling back in a slow way.

"I'm sorry, I know. I just… it's not the same. I'm not my mother. I'm sorry I woke you, poppa. Goodnight," she hung up, meeting watery eyes with Cody.

"I apologize," she said quietly, her breathe hitching a little but she fought to keep it under control.

"You don't need to be sorry. You warned me," he said, taking a step toward her. She took one back.

"I've called a cab. Are you going back to the hotel as well?"

"I'm not staying in there with your dad, that's for sure," he replied. She laughed a little, letting another tear escape from her eyes as a cab pulled up to the corner. They got in; Cody squeezed up against Bryony and put his arm around her. She leaned in to him, letting him direct the cab driver to the hotel. She remained on his shoulder until they pulled up to the hotel, when she leaned out to pay for the ride and watched the cab pull away.

"C'mon, Bry. I'll walk you to your room," Cody took her arm, and she walked with him into the hotel.

"Third floor," she said simply as they stepped into the elevator together. Cody pressed the button, and they stood in silence with their arms laced together. Cody felt comfortable, as though they'd been together for years and silence was no longer silence but just quiet examples of adoration. He followed behind her as they stepped off, for once she was walking slowly and he was enjoying the walk with her.

"313," she stated quietly, stopping at the door and turning to face him. They looked into each other's eyes for what felt like minutes before she spoke again.

"You tried to kiss me," she said, not losing eye contact with him. He nodded.

"You don't even know me. You don't know how old I am, what my favorite color is, what my hopes and dreams and fears are. How is it that you find interest in me when you know nothing about me?"

Cody had to think about it for a moment. It was true she didn't talk much about herself, really herself; the things she cared about or what she enjoyed. She was always professional, always articulate and never gave more information than necessary. He knew she liked roses, and hated blondes; and that she was easily the smartest woman he'd ever met.

"I could know those things if you wanted me to, Bry," he said, reaching out and touching the side of her face. She took his hand in hers, laced her fingers in his and put herself in his arms. He wrapped them around her, leaning down and kissing her gently.

"I'm twenty. My favorite color is blue, like your eyes. I hope to be successful, I dream of being a wrestler again, and I fear what I'm doing right now," she said quietly, in a voice devoid of regality or professionalism and full of true emotion. He kissed her again, letting their lips linger together for longer than before.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I'll never hurt you. You don't need to be afraid," he whispered. She nodded, and held him tightly for a while. He kissed the top of her head, enjoying the moment with her.

"Would you… like to come inside for a while?" she asked hesitantly. His eyes widened a little. Was she propositioning him? Was that really what she wanted?

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he countered. She thought for a moment, finally nodding.

"I'm sure," She said, reaching into her bag for her cardkey. She turned around, pulling the card through and opening the door. He followed her inside, closing the door quietly behind them. She had a beautiful room, larger than his and all to herself; with a big bed and even a small kitchen and a flat-screen television.

"Fancy room," Cody commented, taking a few more steps inside. She smiled, making her way into the room and over to a large pink suitcase in the corner.

"I'm the boss, I get a fancy room," she answered, picking up the suitcase and placing it on her bed. She grabbed a few articles of clothing from it, and stuffed them under her arm; putting the suitcase back in its place.

"Make yourself at home, Mr. Runnels. I'm going to change into something more… cliché," she said with a little laugh, making her way to the bathroom. Cody took the opportunity to walk around, taking in the room. It was much nicer than anything he stayed in on the road, and she was right; the boss gets fancy rooms. He was in his boss' room. That was something he never thought would happen. He never thought his boss would be such a beautiful woman either. He found himself seated on her bed, which was also much more comfortable than the ones he usually slept on. Bryony had it good being the General Manager.

"Sorry about that, I just don't like being so professional all the time," she said, entering the room in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that's end fell across her shoulder. He couldn't help but laugh a little.

"What are you laughing about?" she said, looking down at herself.

"You just look really cute, is all. It's very different," he replied, standing up and trying to put his arms around her; she slipped under him and plopped down on the bed.

"Tempurpedic, can you believe that? I've never slept on one of these before," she patted the sides of it, and in his eyes transformed from regal Bryony to a nervous girl with a boy in her room all to herself. He sat down next to her, smiling down at her widely. She pulled her hair down and let it fall across her back.

"Why are you so happy, Cody? Every time you look at me, you're always smirking about something," she said, letting his hand touch her leg.

"Looking at you just makes me smile, Bryony. You're beautiful."

She leaned up and kissed him, with more passion than he had been expecting from her. Before he realized it, she was on top of him and had a hand up his shirt. He pulled back from her for a moment.

"Bryony, it's not that I'm not enjoying where this is going; where is this going, exactly?"

"For the first time in my life," she said, pressing a kiss on his neck that made his skin tingle, "I don't have a plan. I just want you, Cody."


	12. Chapter 12

The words rung in his ears, the feeling of need rising in him more quickly than he could handle. Bryony was quick to get his shirt off, keen on hers disappearing so they were skin to skin. Her body was warm and smelled like vanilla, her skin soft porcelain perfect to the touch. He did not want to stop touching her, with his hands and lips but he was finding it hard to breathe. He laid his face against her bare stomach, taking in a deep breath and trying to focus the haze overtaking his mind. He could hear the heavy breaths from her that mimicked his. He closed his eyes, trying to pull together a list in his head of reasons to justify ruining their careers like this. He couldn't, shouldn't fraternize with his boss like this. They'd gone far already and god she was so pretty but this should not be happening.

"Bryony, I want to; but we can't. You're my boss, and I just… don't want my feelings for you to ruin everything you've worked for," he looked up at her, though it was damn hard to abide by what he'd just laid out when she was in that lacy bra. Bryony nodded, as though she had been battling the same notion.

"You are not the only one with the feelings here, and you're better than I for saying that. You're right. Doing something like this, if someone found out about it; we'd be let go and our fathers could not protect us from it. I don't know what I was thinking," she grabbed the shirts they'd thrown to the corner of the bed in their haste, taking hers and pulling it quickly. He sidled up next to her, wrapping his arms around her and letting her rest her head on his chest.

"Tell me about your mother," she said after a minute of silence. He laughed a little.

"She's a great lady. Dustin, he's my half-brother; likes her, I mean… what really rallies my family together is my dad, and we obviously see a lot more of him than we do our moms. But, I call her a couple times a month to check in. She watches me on TV, sent me a text when I beat Randy Orton that she was proud of me for getting my title back. She's a good mom. I need to see her soon," he ended, looking down at her a little sadly. She nodded a little, not saying much.

"Tell me about your mother," he said. She looked up at him, and he smiled kindly at her. She took a deep breath, letting him press a kiss to her forehead before she began.

"She died when I was six. She had cancer; they found the tumor during the C-section she had to give birth to me. She fought for six years, and it was a long six years. She'd get better, and I'd remember those months as some of the best and the worst. When she was sick, it was like she didn't even exist. She was really pretty, the prettiest woman in the world; but we all think that of our mothers, I guess. I can recall her telling me about Brock; that my dad was a wrestler and a big star and that was why he was never around. I watched her die. Begged her not to, begged her to let me call my dad and tell him; to get him to save her. I thought Brock was a superhero when I was a kid, he was my favorite wrestler. And when my mom died, I realized that he was not someone to worship. I guess that I blame him for her dying, though it quite obviously was not his fault. I blame him for not being my superhero when I needed him. My mother should not have died. But she did. I wish I could see her," she finished, wiping real emotional tears from her eyes. Cody tightened his grip on her, pulling her in and letting her cry; really cry. The hot tears that fell against his chest were ancient, ones she'd held back for years upon years. Cody let her cry, he wanted her to; as much as it hurt him to see he knew she needed it. She cried herself to sleep in his arms, her breathing coming into meter and her eyes closing heavily. He debated what he should do, leaving he could wake her; and he did not want to leave. But if he stayed, his roommates for the evening would note his absence. They would call him on it. He could lie, but more lies would lead to suspicion. Looking down at her, he knew he could not wake her. And if he had to lie, he would. He would do anything to protect Bryony. Even if it meant he couldn't be with her.


	13. Chapter 13

Someone was always knocking. Cody could feel Bryony rousing more quickly than himself, and she didn't seem bothered that he was still in her bed so he kept his eyes closed. He could hear the door open slightly.

"Bryony Annabelle, good morning. Was hoping you'd be free for some coffee and breakfast, on me. Then we can go for a run, if you'd like," Punk's voice was seedy, too sweet to have any real goodwill in it. Bryony yawned openly.

"Well, Phil. You've woken me, so you'll need to give me some time to get ready. I can meet you in the lobby in about twenty minutes," she said.

"I can wait for you here, if you want. No big deal. I wanted to talk to you about last night anyway and-"

"-I'll meet you in the lobby, Phil. I'm already spending my downtime with you, you're pushing it asking for full access," she closed the door, locking it loudly and making her way back over to the bed. She quietly put herself back into Cody's arms, trying not to wake him. He opened his eyes, smiling a little.

"You should've let him in, I would've kept him company while you got ready," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She shook her head, smirking a little.

"Very funny, Cody. You need to get up right now," she said, pushing him a little but found herself snuggling back into his chest and kissing it. He laughed a little.

"That's not any way to get me up, Bry," he replied, feeling the soft touch of her hands across his side. She leaned up and kissed him, letting her lips linger on his for a moment before pulling away.

"I'm glad you stayed. But you did not have to. In fact, you probably should not have. It's going to raise questions," she raised herself up to look him directly in the eye. Her eyes were glowing, it was a different grey than he was used to seeing. They had warmth in them, for once. Because of him.

"I'll take care of it. I've got a reputation, if you recall. It's not a stretch to make it look like I was out partying all night and ended up in a beautiful girl's hotel room. And the last part I don't even have to lie about," he kissed the top of her head a final time, pulling himself up and off the bed. He picked up his shirt and unfolded it to put it on.

"Wait. Can I…" she motioned to the shirt. She wanted to keep it. Cody smirked at her.

"Well, I suppose it'll add to the story if I come back shirtless and disheveled," he tossed it to her, and she caught it.

"See you later, Bry."

"Goodbye, Cody," she replied, rising from the bed as he stepped out the door. He closed it quietly behind himself, taking a look down the hall towards the elevator that would take him a floor down to his room. As he took a few steps toward it, he heard a door open behind him.

"What're you doing up here?" the voice belonged to John Cena, and it dawned on Cody quickly that every A-lister must room on this floor. He spun around, careful to be too quick and nearly lose his balance. It was easier to pretend he was intoxicated than he thought.

"John! Where is my room?" Cody asked, slurring slightly and speaking much too loudly.

"It's a floor down, with Drew and Ted," John replied, eyeing him strangely.

"Oh… oh, okay. So, where's my shirt?"

"That I do not know. Listen, get out of here before you wake up the wicked witch of Raw. She's going to freak if she sees you-"

Bryony's door opened and she slid through, her hair pulled back in a tight pair of yoga pants and a v-neck tee. She looked from Cena, who was only in pajama pants to Cody, who smiled crookedly at her.

"Thanks for the wake-up call, Codes, I'll see you in a bit!" Cena said, motioning for Cody to get moving. Bryony folded her arms, eyeing them both.

"You, are welcome. And Miss Bryony, good morning," Cody made his way to the elevator, tripping a little over a rug intentionally on his way.

"They have concierge service for wake-up calls, John. There's no need to bring up the second floor to do your every whim," she said rather viciously. John shook his head, rotating his shoulder uncomfortably.

"Listen, Bry. I don't know what your issue is with me but I'm not that kind of guy."

"Everyone sleeping on this floor is 'that kind of guy', Mr. Cena. Whether you realize it or not. I know you hot-shots better than you think I may. None of you deserve this as much as they do. I intend to eliminate the mid-card, and eliminate the glass ceiling you stand on that prevents them from being stars. If you have a problem with it, by all means; fight me. I don't need anyone in my corner, you're not a real wrestler and I am perfectly capable of destroying you on my own; good day," she closed her door, and passed him by to take the stairs. John watched her go, feeling a mix of anger and defeat a woman like her shouldn't have been able to make him feel


	14. Chapter 14

"So, how was your date last night?"

Bry sipped her coffee, eyeing Punk curiously. He shook his head a little, smirking at his beautiful friend. Bryony, even without make-up in gym clothes, had always been a beautiful woman. Punk had always had feelings for her, despite their difference in ages. He had known before it had been inappropriate for them, but as of recently he knew things had changed and he was hoping he still had a chance.

"It wasn't a date, Bry. Beth and I are just friends," he replied.

"Why do I have such a distinct feeling that Beth would not agree with this?"

Punk laughed. It was nice, spending time with her again. Bryony had been distant for the last couple of years, toiling behind the scenes in Hartford and travelling for talent-scouting. She and Paul had been responsible for Punk's current status with the WWE, and for that he was eternally grateful. Seeing her face break into the familiar smile it used to whenever they shared time together was nice for him. She quickly hid it behind another sip of coffee but he could tell she was enjoying herself too.

"Beth can say whatever she wants, she's not my girl. I don't have one. I haven't really dated since the break-up with Amy," he replied, taking a bite of egg whites from his plate. Bryony nodded, she knew all about Punk's ill-fated relationship with Amy Dumas. Amy was a good friend of hers, but not as good as Punk had once been.

"Have you seen anyone since, well… since ever?" he added, drawing her eyes from her bowl of plain oatmeal to him.

"No. And I don't plan to. I've got a big career change tornadoing its way through my life at the moment; I don't think I need any distractions."

"Good. I really thought those rumors about you and Cody were true," he replied quickly, taking another large calculated bite of food. He knew her too well, knew her youth was going to flash upon her face her tell when she lied. She glanced out the wind for a brief moment, adjusting her glasses and going back to stirring her oatmeal.

"They are writing us a storyline," was all she answered, finally deciding to spoon up a chunk of her oatmeal and lift it gingerly to her mouth. She eyed it, like she did all first bites of her food (another trait Punk had not forgotten about her), and then quickly ate it.

"You're still the same girl, just a little older," Punk surveyed with a smirk. She shook her head, not bothering to look up at him.

"A little older, a lot wiser; a powerful combination. Now tell me, why is it you wanted to talk to me? I know it's not to pervade my managerial knowledge of impending storylines," before he could answer she continued "I'm actually almost certain you're going to ask me what in my right mind provoked me to change the hands of nearly every title in the building Monday night. The roster is stale. John Cena is stale, Jericho is stale, and Orton is stale. The roster needs to see you, Daniel, Ted, the real future of this business standing tall and showing people that it won't be Triple H and Undertaker forever. There will be a future when these men go, entertainment when they are finally ready to retire… for good. They need to see you, the straightedge savior of humanity, the man who taught me everything he knew and then some because you, you are different; I was different. I want the world to know different."

Maybe it was the way she spoke, she always had such a way with words; maybe it was the way she looked with fresh morning sunlight on her passionate features; but when he leaned over and kissed her he never thought she would pull away. And she did, quickly, and glared at him from across the table. The slap that followed he didn't even feel until a single drop of blood hit his plate. Her ring had cut him just under the eye. She looked away.

"Phillip…. Jesus, can I just go one day without someone trying to be something I don't want them to be?!" she exploded with her eyes on the floor, taking up from the booth and throwing down money from her pocket for the bill. She grabbed her purse and walked away before Punk could utter a word in his own defense. He put his head down and cursed his timing, and her father.


End file.
